


The Raven Prince

by E_K_Hannila



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Fantasy, Other, Short Stories, collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-04-29 14:17:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14474478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/E_K_Hannila/pseuds/E_K_Hannila
Summary: This book is a collection of short stories, set in a fantasy/sci-fi universe. Some may be connected, but the majority are stand-alone, and there is no definite timeline.





	1. Author's Note

This is just a little idea I’ve had rattling around in my head for a while now. I don’t expect it to be flawless, or have a complicated plot (or even a coherent one) – I just think it’s interesting. I may expand on it sometime.  
The setting is based on Mekora, a planet I created for a Star Trek fanfic years ago. The people are quite similar, though not identical, to the Kaliya, an elf-like race that lives in the Mekoran star system. (This will still have a few sci-fi touches, like space travel, though it’ll be mostly just fantasy.)  
I dropped the Star Trek fic just a year in, but I still really like the world and culture, and I’ve been trying to find a way to use them. I’m taking this route right now – writing fanfics has helped me in the past, maybe it will now.  
This book will be a bit of an anthology; there won’t be a timeline – I’ll just write as stories come to mind, and mark “before ____” or “after _____” as necessary. This also means that I will probably post more frequently, as well as more erratically; I might post four or five stories in a day or two, then go completely silent for a month. (I’ll try not to, though!) The stories will also vary drastically in length, being anywhere from five paragraphs to five pages.  
Age differences do apply in this series – for example, if Jack is fifteen, then so is Mark, while Matt is eighteen and Nate is sixteen. (I’m going by their whole-year ages as of May 1, which is when I’m writing this note.)  
With all that said, enjoy!


	2. The Automaton

I slid off a stout branch, my shirt ruffling as I dropped to the ground. My wingtip caught on the bark, nearly breaking one of the feathers.   
A skinny boy, who I recognized as my friend Jack, ran over to me, carrying a bright green snake in his arms and around his waist. “Matt, Matt, look what I caught!” he said, showing it to me.   
“Good for you,” I said, tousling his gray-tinged hair. “You gonna take it to show Card?”   
“He doesn’t like that nickname,” Jack said.   
“Yep, that’s why we use it.” I tapped the snake’s nose, watching its tongue flick in and out. “So, are you gonna show him?”   
“Yeah,” Jack said. “Wanna come with me?”   
“That sounds good, I haven’t seen Mark in a while,” I said, using Cardinal’s real name. “You two still together?”   
“Nah, not really,” Jack said. “I met this cute guy from up north a few weeks ago, and I’ve been splitting my time between him and Mark.”   
“Oh, really?” I said, slowly becoming aware of the pressure on my wrist as the snake coiled around it. “What’s his name?”   
“Arvid, but everyone calls him Felix, because of how well he does with cats,” Jack said. “At this point, I’d be surprised if anyone other than him even knows what his real name is.”   
I chuckled. “Hey, uh, we should get going before the snake breaks my wrist.” I eased my hand free, then leaped into the air, my wings snapping out almost the instant my feet left the ground. Jack bundled the snake into his shirt, then broke into a sprint, kicking up a dust trail as he matched my pace easily. 

(Shifting to third-person text, Mark’s POV.)

Mark sat at his desk, carefully maneuvering a tiny silver thread into position with his claws. The thread was thinner than a hair, but combined with thousands more, the collection made a fine hair braid for the metal figure on his desk.   
He heard a rustle outside and carefully set the braid on a tray, going to the door. “Who is it?” he said.   
“Matthew,” said a voice from the other side of the door. “Didn’t you recognize me?”   
“No, I wasn’t looking,” Mark said, opening the door. “My brain’s pretty fried today, I didn’t feel like skimming. Is Jack here?”   
Matt looked back over his shoulder. “He will be. He got a little sidetracked when his new pet got away.”   
Mark ran a hand through his hair, chuckling. “How long has he had this one?”  
“’Bout an hour, maybe two,” Matt said. “He wants to give it to you.”   
“No,” Mark said. “Whatever it is, I don’t have the time or the space for it.”   
“It’s a snake,” Matt said. “Trust me, I can’t take it either, but I can’t tell him that. It’ll crush him.”   
Jack ran up to them, coming to a stop and rubbing the soles of his feet. “I think I hit something pointy a while back,” he said, checking his palm. “Oh, well. No blood. What are you doing today?”   
“Working on a new project,” Mark said, stepping aside so both of them could come inside. “It’s about half done.”   
“What is it?” Jack said, peering down at the tiny figure standing on the desk. It was about five inches tall, and had no head. The metal plates on its torso had been opened up, revealing a hollow shell with intricate metal workings. The whole thing was made of silver.   
“It’s an automaton,” Mark said. “For the prince. It’s his birthday in a few weeks, you know.”   
Matt and Jack both stared at him with a mix of shock, excitement, and apprehension on their faces.   
“He’s turning seventeen,” Mark said, trying to break the awkward silence.   
“I… I didn’t even know we had a prince,” Jack said. “I live out in the woods.”   
“We all live in the woods,” Matt said.   
“Further into the woods, then. Out where things like princes don’t matter.”   
“Are you going to give him anything?” Mark said.   
Matt and Jack both shrugged. The snake slithered away.


	3. The Raven Prince

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember the automaton from last chapter?

A pale young man sat in a window, watching the Dracia fly around. They were setting up decorations for his birthday. He wanted to fly with them so badly, his jet-black wings twitching.  
“Nathan!”  
The prince sighed, rolling his eyes, and headed in the direction of the voice. “What is it, Mom?”  
“Have you chosen an outfit for the party?”  
Nathan shrugged, gesturing to the rather worn-out clothes he was currently wearing. “It’s clothes. What’s the big deal?”  
“You need to look at least a little presentable,” his mother said, tossing him a fresh shirt. Nathan caught it, holding it up to see which one it was.  
“Mom, you know I hate this one!” he whined. “It’s uncomfortable and it messes up my feathers.”  
“Then how about these?” she said, laying out three more on his bed.  
“Is none of the above an option?” Nathan said after only a cursory glance at them.  
“No.”  
“Fine, then, I guess I’ll go with…” He looked over them again. “This one.” He chose a dark violet shirt with elbow-length sleeves. “And this to go with it,” he said, taking a black vest off the shelf. “And maybe these…” A pair of black pants, ending a few inches past the knee. He held up the outfit, looking in the mirror.  
“I like it,” his mother said. “Now, get changed and meet me on the balcony. And if you come out there in anything other than what you picked, so help me you are grounded.” 

Nate changed quickly, then spent the next twenty minutes fixing up his feathers and hair until they shined.  
I can’t wait until this is over and I can go back to being a normal person for another year.  
He headed out onto the balcony, where his parents waited for him. His father was a powerful man, easily six feet tall or more, while his mother was slim and elegant, her magpie wings folded neatly and her long black hair tied back in a braid.  
Down below, throngs of people were milling about, waiting for the whole thing to start. Nate could pick out several Dracia in human form, tamping down any forming riots.  
He heard soft, heavy footsteps behind him and looked back. “Oh, hi, Nightshade. You’re looking quite nice today.”  
The black Dracia purred, her scales gleaming like obsidian. Thank you, she said, her mental voice echoing slightly inside Nate’s head. She fluttered her soft leathery wings, showing off the purple-tinged membrane. After this, do you want to go for a flight?  
Sure, Nate responded, using his mind so his parents wouldn’t get wise of their plans. Where do you want to go?  
Nightshade showed him a waterfall surrounded by thick forest, and Nate smiled, imagining what the mist would feel like in his feathers.  
“What are you two thinking about?” his father said, seeing Nate’s smile.  
“Oh, Nightshade just told me a joke,” Nate lied. “So there’s this snow cougar, and it’s watching these two Dracia hatchlings –”  
“Okay, I believe you,” his father said with a wave. 

After the party, Nate went through the many, many gifts on the tables. Most were the usual gemstones and precious metals – not unwelcome, but quite common – but there were a few surprises, notably a small silver figure with wings just like his that walked around and waved at him with tiny hands the size of mouse paws. It didn’t seem to have any sort of livingmetal enchantment on it, making it all the more impressive – it was entirely mechanical.  
He let it step onto his hand, then carefully carried it to his room, putting it on a shelf. Some time later, he would build it a little home. It only seemed right.  
He changed into his comfortable outfit – black shirt and pants with a blue jacket – and went out to meet Nightshade. The Dracia was no longer wearing her special silver collar, but her much-preferred leather one, worn out over the years but still holding together.  
Ready? she said, arching her back and stretching her wings. Nate nodded, taking off. It must have been a remarkable sight, a Dracia with a forty-foot wingspan compared to his fifteen, but he didn’t care. It’s not like anyone would recognize him, or if they did, they probably wouldn’t care.  
I’ve asked a friend of yours to join us, Nightshade said.  
Please tell me it’s Matthew, he’s adorable.  
Nightshade nodded, baring her sharp teeth in a smile. I know. Cute little hawk boy. 

The two of them landed by the pool at the bottom of the waterfall – well, Nate landed by it. Nightshade dove in with a crash, sending water everywhere. Nate jumped in after her, gasping as the cool water soaked into his feathers.  
“Hey, Nate!” a familiar voice called. Nate looked up just in time to see Matt leap out of a tree, cannonballing into the water. He swam towards Nate, catching him around the waist and dragging him down with him for a few seconds before letting him go and swimming to the surface.  
The two of them floated there, laughing.  
“Oh, it’s so good to see you,” Matt said. “How long’s it been, weeks?”  
“Something like that,” Nate said. “I’ve just been… busy.”  
“Did you hear it’s the prince’s birthday today?” Matt said, swimming slow circles.  
At every damn turn. “Yeah, it was kind of chaotic in the city earlier,” Nate said. “If I’d have been in his place, I would be miserable. All that attention – I mean, I don’t even like to perform in front of an audience if it’s too large. Being the prince must be awful.”  
He watched Matt swim for a few more moments, then pounced on him, grabbing at his outstretched wings. Matt shot away with a powerful wingbeat, sending a wave of water over both Nate and Nightshade. Nate laughed, while Nightshade looked up, seemingly confused at what had just happened.  
“Sorry, Nightshade,” Matt said, swimming over and hugging her. Nightshade closed her eyes, purring softly.  
It’s okay, she said. It just startled me. Then, with no warning, she snapped out one wing, knocking both boys over. When they made it back to the surface, they found her laughing.  
“I’m done with the water,” Matt said in mock anger, climbing out of the pool. He shook the water off his wings, his rust-colored coverts looking bloodstained. Nate climbed out as well, but didn’t bother drying off, just lying on a flat rock with his wings unfurled halfway.  
“You know, I’ve been thinking about moving out here,” Nate said. “Or at least getting out of the house. My parents would never let me, though.”  
“Just run away,” Matt said.  
“I’ve got too much responsibility at home,” Nate said. “I mean, I guess if I disappeared, my sister would take my place. But I don’t have anywhere to go.”  
“You can live with me,” Matt blurted out.  
Nate raised an eyebrow, looking over at him. “Huh?”  
“I – I mean, I’ve got plenty of space,” Matt said. “It wouldn’t be crowded or anything.”  
“I’ll think about it,” Nate said.  
Nightshade crawled out of the water, leaving a furrow in the dirt as she lay down. You’d be far happier with him than at home, and your sister is perfect for the role of ruler, she said. If you decide to leave, I’d be happy to explain to your parents.  
“What’s she sayin’?” Matt said.  
“She said she’ll cover for me if I decide to stay with you,” Nate said. “And I think I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just for clarification, yes, the Dracia technically are dragons, and in this series the two terms will be interchangeable. They aren't all that big -- twenty feet from nose to tail at the largest -- with the average male matching a lion in a fight, and the average female matching a bear.


	4. Mors Per Ignis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for this... I just wanna remind you that this series is NOT IN ORDER. This could be a hundred years in the future for all we know.

Dust drifted across the floor, carried by the breeze through an open window. A man with curly brown hair and tough golden scales sat on the windowsill, his bronze, leathery wings crumpled on the floor as he cried softly.   
Clutched in his hands were three bright blue feathers, speckled with black and iridescent green. They sparkled like the stars that he and Ethan loved to fly through, the cold night air a sharp contrast against the burning heat from Tyler’s skin and scales.   
I miss you so much.   
Tyler pressed the feathers to his face, breathing in the sweet, musty scent. His love smelled like blueberries and running water, gentle and sweet.   
He closed his eyes, memories rising piece by piece. Comfortable warmth turning to desert heat and worse. Flickering orange light. A burning dryness in the air. A cry of fear. 

And then he was there, standing on the edge of his loft, looking around for Ethan. The little wind-child was nowhere to be found – there!  
He jumped down, the flames licking at his scales and skin, and ran across the burning floorboards. Ethan was there, desperately trying to pull air away from the blaze surrounding him, and failing as he panicked.   
“Tyler!” he cried, reaching out for the half-dragon as the brilliant blue feathers on his wings crumbled and turned black in the fire. Tyler grabbed his arms, struggling to pull him free of the fallen beam.   
“Ah!” Ethan let go, his hands going to his scorched and twisted leg as he tried to slow the damage. Tyler frantically searched for the end of the beam, struggling to lift it. But even his immense strength was nothing to the solid oak timbers of their house.   
“Tyler, please!” Ethan sobbed, his crippled wings flailing as he fought to get free. He started coughing and hacking, Tyler ran to him, tried to pick him up –   
Fresh air, that will save him –   
Ethan looked up at him with heat-reddened eyes. “Go,” he rasped, as the flames crept up his sleeves.   
And Tyler did, crashing through a brittle wall into the cold winter air outside. His bare feet crunched through the snow and slush as he ran away from the conflagration.   
He stopped, falling to his hands and knees in the deep snowdrifts. Deep in his chest, he felt a tiny snap as the tether to Ethan, strengthened by their decades together, was broken.   
Dragons were fireproof. The wind-child was not.


	5. Anything For Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set just hours after "Mors Per Ignis"

Tyler landed in a clearing, barely slowing down as he raced down a dirt footpath to a familiar cabin. “Mark!”   
Mark met him at the door, hugging him. “I heard about Ethan,” he said. “I’m so sorry, Tyler. Are you okay?”   
“Just a few little burns,” Tyler said, showing the discolored patches on his forearms and the edges of his wings. “I came to ask you a favor.”   
“Anything,” Mark said, stepping back a bit.   
“I’ve read about the passing of souls,” Tyler said. “When someone dies, their soul escapes into the nearest stable object – a tree, a rock, anything that won’t break down easily. And if you can figure out what it’s in, you can retrieve it and help the person transfer to something else. Many people have managed to make automata that souls can inhabit and move around with. And looking at your skill, I thought –”   
“No,” Mark said. “I am not building Ethan a new body.”   
“Mark, please!” Tyler begged. “You’re the best craftsman I know. I wouldn’t trust anyone else to do it.”   
“I don’t know why you’d trust me with this at all!” Mark said. “You remember Wade. The damage to his mind that broken body caused, the – the pain he was in as his life faded. I’m not forcing someone to go through that again.”   
“But you know what you did wrong, you can fix it this time,” Tyler said, frantic. “You can make this one perfect, and Ethan will be okay.”   
“I’m not risking it,” Mark said. “If this goes wrong, it’s not something you’d wanna see.”   
“But if it goes right, then I’d have him back.”   
Mark sighed. “You realize we’d only have one chance at this, right? If this doesn’t work, he’s gone forever.”   
Tyler nodded. “I understand.”   
“Good,” Mark said, going to his desk. “Now, was there anything around Ethan when he died? Did he have any jewelry?”  
“Yes, he had his necklace,” Tyler said.   
“Go get it,” Mark said. “Oh, was Ethan telepathic?”   
“Very. He could barely keep his mind to himself sometimes.”   
“Then he’s most likely aware of his situation,” Mark said. “You need to get there and find the necklace as soon as possible, make sure he knows he’s gonna be okay.”   
Tyler nodded, heading outside and taking off. 

Tyler landed near the charred remains of the cabin that night. The blackened timber had gone cold in the day he was gone, leaving a black charcoal smudge in the snow.   
He made his way inside, the wood cracking under his weight and sending puffs of soot into the cold air. There in the corner, underneath the main support beam, was a pale blue figure, his skin mottled from the flames.   
Ethan.   
Tyler knelt next to the boy, tears coming to his eyes. I’m so sorry. But I promise, you’ll be fine soon.   
He closed his eyes, sending out a few mental tendrils to look for him and see if he was there. Sure enough, a tiny bundle of sparks lay hidden under his chest.   
Tyler? A small voice, barely inaudible, came across one of the links, solidifying it. Is that you?   
I’m here, Tyler replied as he stood. He lifted the beam off Ethan’s body, picking him up and carefully taking the silver-and-sapphire necklace off of him. I won’t let anything else happen to you. I promise. Mark’s gonna help save you.  
He carried Ethan’s body out of the building, digging a shallow grave in the frozen earth and placing him in it. He had no gravestone, so he carved a few words into a tree next to the grave.   
He can’t save me, Ethan whimpered, his voice weak. No one can. You buried me yourself.   
Tyler felt him fading away and started to panic, but he hid this from Ethan. You’re gonna be fine, he said, fastening the necklace around his own neck and taking off. You’re gonna be fine.

All that night, Tyler lay in bed talking to Ethan, trying to keep him stable. He sang him songs, he told him stories, anything to keep him from shutting down entirely. Tyler knew all too well how difficult it was to be trapped like Ethan was, with no agency whatsoever, so he did his best to give him whatever he asked.   
Mark had told him that the new body would likely take a while to build, but he’d enlisted his friend Amy to help – she was as good at working with gems as Mark was with metal, and her skills would be needed.   
Tyler sighed, closing his hand around the blue stone that held Ethan’s soul.   
I’m gonna save you, baby. I’m gonna get you back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 coming soon!


	6. A Devil's Deal (Pt.1)

He was a runner.   
The skinny boy raced down the half-paved road, the calluses on his feet dulling each impact so that he barely felt the rough stones and dirt. He remembered the days early on, when any sharp stone would sideline him – those days were long past him. And besides, they were nothing, even then; he just liked to whine.   
He longed for the days that he would be able to outrun all his friends, even those who could fly.   
But not now. Rest, Jack.   
He sat down heavily, falling into a heap of water fans. The broad, waxy leaves cooled his sore arms and legs, and Jack thanked Tachis that they’d been there, rubbing one on his face futilely to mop up the sweat beading on his forehead.   
I can only rest a little while. Just a meal, and then I’ve gotta be off again.   
He leaned against a tree, the ache in his legs flaring up as soon as he put his weight on them again. The tree was weighed down with pears, so he would have a good snack.   
“Funny seeing you here.”   
The pear fell from his hand as he looked around, searching for the source of the voice.   
A wiry man climbed down from the tree, crawling along the trunk headfirst like a spider, and sat down in front of him, resting his chin in his hands. His skin had a greenish tinge, at a contrast to his bright red claws.   
“I haven’t seen you in a while, Jack,” the man said, his toothy smile never wavering. Jack scooted backward as far as he could, his back pressed against the tree.   
“W-what do you want?” he stammered, trying to look unfazed. But the man wasn’t fooled, only cocking his head and smiling wider.   
“You haven’t paid.”   
Jack shut his eyes tight. Please. Anything but that.   
“I’ll – I’ll pay you back, I swear,” he said. “Just give me another week. Let me finish the race. Let me show my parents I’m good for something.”   
The man thought for a few moments, then nodded slowly. “Finish the race, then come straight back here, and I’ll take what’s owed me.”   
He reached out with an unnaturally long arm, shaking Jack’s hand, then disappeared into the forest. Jack looked down at his palm, scratching at the silvery “A” burned into it, then got back on the trail, running as fast as his legs could carry him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, I know you're all probably waiting on the conclusion to "Anything For Love", and I promise I'm working on it, but it's just... difficult. For now, have this. It introduces a character -- and concept -- that I've wanted to for a long time.


End file.
